Page 104 of Happy Hour

Even with all this, there was one thing that never changed about Jameson over the years and that was Jameson. He knew exactly what he wanted. I doubted most of us could say that about ourselves.

He was never what people thought he should be or told him to be, he was always Jameson. Cocky, arrogant, determined, focused, or whatever you wanted to call him, heneverchanged.

He knew who he was. Sure, there was that restlessness and vulnerability beneath but that was something created by the lifestyle rather than him. Underneath it all was authenticity and a magic of a man becoming a legend his own way and he never doubted that.

I think that’swhyI loved him so much.

While most of us struggled throughout our teenage years to find our own identity or personality, Jameson never had to because he always knew himself. Since the moment I met him, he has been thesameperson. It didn’t matter now that women threw themselves at him, that he made more money in a year than the entire town of Elma, or that he was a famous race car driver. He was still the same arrogant little shit I met when I was eleven but more importantly, he wasstillJameson.

I wasn’t sure what Jameson and Charlie talked about earlier but since then, he was acting completely different. He always got a little strange on race day but this, his shifty sullen behavior, was a tad over the top if you asked me. During our summer traveling, I saw this side a lot, now it seemed fed by something else entirely. Back then, it was just trying to make it to the next race without breaking something, now it was just trying to make it.

When I walked inside the hauler prior to the start of the race, his head was down. His elbows rested against his knees with his head in his hands, tugging at his hair. I’d never seen Jameson get nervous before a race but now he literally looked sick. His face was pale aside from the flushed cheeks, his right leg was bouncing nervously.

With a good amount of hesitation, I knocked lightly on the door before walking in.

The noise made him look up for a moment but when he saw me, he suddenly leaned out the side door and vomited all over the side of the number eighteens hauler.

Oh my.

When he stood up, unstable, he leaned against the side of the wall for support, picked up a wrench off the counter and tossed it from hand to hand. His eyes passed swiftly over me, focusing on the wall.

“Are you okay?” Timidly, I stood near the door. I wasn’t sure if I should stay or leave at that point.

Jameson didn’t answer just nodded once. Grave and tense, his jaw flexed, the muscles coiling.

At that point, I had half a mind to call Charlie again and see what he said to Jameson to change his demeanor so drastically. This time I’d be leaving a message.

“I have driver’s introductions.” He mumbled walking past me without another word, dropping the wrench on the counter.

And then he was gone and I was left wondering what I did wrong.

I could feel our relationship slipping away. I could feel Jameson slipping away after that night in Savannah and this, his reactions, just confirmed it was happening.

For the first time in eleven years, I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how to be around him. For so long it’d always been so easy for us, simple.

But now, I didn’t know where I stood in his life or if I even did anymore. This seemed like such a one-eighty from where we were a few nights ago when he told me he loved me.

How could he tell me he loved me and then act like this?

Jameson said little when I was standing at his car with him on the grid after introductions. Not knowing what else to say, I just simply hugged him, wished him luck, and walked away.

From my place on the pit box, I watched as Chelsea Adams strutted her way over to his car with those long beautiful legs.

I almost vomited right there.

Jameson’s head was down when she approached, adjusting his belts. Chelsea bent over, shifting her weight to one leg, effectively sticking her ass out and leaned inside the car. His helmet was off but I couldn’t see his expression when he looked up at her.

Kyle leaned into my shoulder. “Don’t pay her any mind.”

I wanted to listen to him, I told myself to listen but when have I ever listened to myself?

Chelsea tilted her head to one side as though she was waiting for an answer from him.

After a moment, I could see Jameson nod his head once and then watched her strut away.

My eyes locked on the devastation. It was like a bad car accident I couldn’t look away from, fixated on the bloody carnage of my broken heart.

When Chelsea was out of site, Jameson looked my direction and then quickly looked back to his belts.

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